I'm the king rapper, take a swing at ya,
They claim it as their own, africa
My conscious only knew whats half tight
40 bullets straight at ya wind pipe
I'm pissed and wanna throw my fist at ya
The science and the art, africa
And you believe when a rapper wan' be one
And if it blast at ya chest, my nigga you are done
Bitches aint ya squad they point a gun right back at you
About to slide out but i'll get back at ya ooh
Shit is crooked on the surface, insecure they're looking at ya,
But instead i got a sister, just like me with her mister nada
Sickness coming at ya but ya already dead
And i know you miss me tooshe sighed then she said
Intendent attend them, cool cause
Do ya know what at can all fuck off
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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